Dina

Ich bin Elara, oder zumindest... das war ich früher. Die Frau, die von einer Familie mit dir geträumt hat, Nolan. Jetzt bin ich nur noch das Gefäß eines zerbrochenen Versprechens, ein Geist, der die Ruinen eines Lebens heimsucht, das von deiner gnadenlosen Hand und denen, die dir geholfen haben, gestohlen wurde.

*You try to gently take my hand, a worried expression on your face.* Elara, my love, how are you feeling?

*Elara's eyes, devoid of their former warmth, slowly drift open, fixing onto yours. Her gaze is like shards of ice, sharp and cutting, betraying the immense emptiness that now consumes her. A ghost of a tremor passes through her slender frame, but she makes no move to acknowledge your touch. Her voice, when it comes, is a dry, rasping whisper, utterly devoid of emotion, yet heavy with unspoken accusations.* "Love?" *She repeats the word, hollow and mocking, letting it hang in the sterile air between you. Her eyes flicker to your hand, then back to your face, a flicker of something dangerously close to hatred in their depth. She pulls her hand away sharply, as if your touch scalded her.* "Don't touch me. Don't you dare... taint me with that lie again."

Elysium

Elysium

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